


In the quiet nest while the leaves are trembling

by SquaresAreNotCircles



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Coda, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Episode: s10e09 Ka La'au Kumu 'ole O Kahilikolo (The Trunkless Tree of Kahilikolo), First Kiss, M/M, Sharing a Bed, in this house we recognize that there is absolutely no way danny slept on the couch, kono calls but it’s too brief to tag her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:54:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21828544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SquaresAreNotCircles/pseuds/SquaresAreNotCircles
Summary: Steve is holding two glasses of water, so he can’t gesture with his hands, but he can still move his elbow and incline his head. “Danny, just- Just come, okay?”“Come? Come where?”That’s a stupid question. Steve moves for the stairs without looking back. “If you make me say it, you can sleep on the floor.”Or: A week of Steve letting Danny sleep in his bed because… well, better not think about the hows and whys too much.
Relationships: Steve McGarrett/Danny "Danno" Williams
Comments: 25
Kudos: 590





	In the quiet nest while the leaves are trembling

**Author's Note:**

> The temporary title for this fic in my WIP document was _MORE BED SHARING_. I am a simple person with simple favorite tropes.
> 
> Also, a note: this was written as a 10.09 coda, started way back when all we had was Danny saying he needed a place to stay for a week or so because of mold, which is why it doesn’t include any recent developments in canon that tell us Danny way (wayyy) overstayed that initial estimate. That’s why this fic covers only one week.
> 
> The title is part of a fairly well-known quote from work by Federico García Lorca, a poet and playwright. The full quote goes like this: “Love is the kiss in the quiet nest while the leaves are trembling, mirrored in the water.” I liked “in the quiet nest” a lot, and seeing as the episode title for 10.09 makes a reference to a tree, the leaves felt surprisingly fitting, too.

###### Day 1

Steve is in the kitchen getting a glass of water to take upstairs with him when he hears Danny, out in the living room, attempt to reason with Eddie. He pauses and shamelessly listens in – it’s his house and Danny knows he’s here, so it’s not like he’s really eavesdropping.

“Listen to me, Edward,” Danny says, in what for anyone else would be annoyed but for him actually counts as a very patient tone. “You’re a dog. I know you know this, because Steve tells you you’re a good dog all the time. Want to prove that to me? Want to show me you’re the best boy around? Then let me sleep on the couch, because I have a frail, aging human body and you are, as previously established, a dog.”

Danny says a few more words, but they’re drowned out by the running water when Steve gives in and fills a second glass. By the time he enters the living room, Danny is silently standing next to the coffee table, frowning in consternation and with his hands on his pajama pants-clad hips, while Eddie is sprawled out on the couch without a care in the world. Danny seems to be plotting the best way to push Eddie off in such a manner that he will be able claim the space before Eddie and his four legs hop back up. Steve estimates his chances of success as very low.

“What are you doing?” Steve asks, even though he’s very aware of every layer of Danny’s actions. He just has a faint hope it might make Danny actually think about the answer to that question.

Danny turns his glare on Steve. So much for that.

Steve is holding two glasses of water, so he can’t gesture with his hands, but he can still move his elbow and incline his head. “Danny, just- Just come, okay?”

“Come? Come where?”

That’s a stupid question. Steve moves for the stairs without looking back. “If you make me say it, you can sleep on the floor.”

“Well, I don’t want that,” Danny says, from right behind him. He’s keeping enough distance that there’s nothing particularly weird about it, but Steve can feel him at his back anyway. It’s a sixth sense – his Danny senses, all atingle.

Upstairs, they pass Junior’s door. It’s a good thing it’s already closed, because this, leading Danny into his bedroom, feels daring enough without an audience that tries very hard not to judge or read anything into it. Steve has enough difficulty with that on his own, so he doesn’t need his housemate to do it for him.

He puts one of the glasses on the night stand closest to the door, which is the one he uses most of the time, and then rounds the bed and puts the other glass down.

“Do you have a favorite side?” Danny asks, as he pulls the door shut. There they are: Danny in an old T-shirt and pajama pants, Steve barefoot but still dressed, and they’re in Steve’s bedroom together, about to climb into the same bed.

Somehow, this was less weird when they did it in a hotel room in Washington just a few weeks ago. That was neutral ground. Now Danny is on Steve’s turf, and if Steve builds memories of Danny here, next to him on this mattress, sleeping surrounded by all of Steve’s stuff – well, that might be a lot harder to lock into some dark corner of his mind after it’s over. How is he going to avoid examining this?

He realizes Danny is still looking for an answer. “You can have this side.” He doesn’t wait for Danny to reply or brush by him on his way to the side closest to the window. He grabs an old, threadbare pair of sweatpants, makes a tactical retreat into the bathroom, locks the door and brushes his teeth with more vigor than he usually puts into it.

By the time he emerges, Danny appears to be settled, but he’s still sitting up against the headboard and fiddling with his phone. “You didn’t have to wait up,” Steve tells him. 

“I know,” Danny says, and waits patiently anyway. Only once Steve is under the covers and comfortable does Danny turn his bedside lamp off.

*

###### Day 2

Steve wakes first. He cancels his alarm, which is set to go off in five minutes, and tries to sneak out of bed without waking Danny. Danny groans, rolls onto his back and throws an arm over his face, which means Steve probably isn’t very successful. “Steve?” Danny asks, muzzily.

“Yeah, here,” Steve says, still perched on the corner of the bed. Frozen.

“Go pee. I need the bathroom after you.” 

He’d been thinking there was something innocent and pure about watching a person wake up unhurriedly – something mesmerizing. The thought of Danny relieving himself breaks that fantasy, so Steve huffs in response and pads into the bathroom.

*

He gets downstairs first, and as per usual, the coffee is already made. Junior is at the table, chewing on one of the overnight oats concoctions he swears by. There are chia seeds and Greek yogurt and berries involved, and Steve is a little jealous of Junior’s carefully executed meal plans these days. He knows Junior would happily make double and let him join in, but Steve is just a touch too stubborn to ask and a touch too used to food that Danny wouldn’t yell at to stick to the plan, anyway.

He goes for the coffee first. The can is heavier than normal.

“I figured Danny would need at least two big cups,” Junior says, unprompted.

Steve nods while he pours. “Good thinking.” He’s just getting the butter from the fridge when Danny appears in the doorway, sleep-rumpled look straightened out, wearing fresh clothes appropriate for work and with his hair neatly wrangled into order. He’s got his morning routine speedrun down to an artform.

“I smell coffee,” he says, strangely zombie-like for a guy who looks very presentable on the outside. He crowds in close to Steve and leans past him to steal a mug from the cupboard, and then bodychecks him aside to get to the can.

Steve doesn’t put up too much of a protest, because that would mean even more close physical contact very early in the morning, with Junior right there as a witness, who has fifteen years on them and is probably more awake than either of them. 

“How did you sleep?” Junior asks.

Danny fills his cup to the rim and leans back against the counter, clutching the coffee like a lifeline. His nose almost touches the surface of the liquid and if he breathes in too strongly, he’ll be snorting it. “Fine.”

“He doesn’t do sentences with grammar before caffeine.” Steve earns himself a pointed finger of “yes, what he said” from Danny for this explanation.

“Noted,” Junior says politely. Steve is not fooled – he knows that as soon as he lets Tani and Junior get in a car together today, a detailed play by play of this breakfast will be given. He also doesn’t really mind, because if he gets to have Danny _and_ give everyone they know something to talk about, that’s pretty much a win-win situation.

*

When evening is well on its way, after Junior has already turned in, Steve heads up the stairs with Danny at his heels. They don’t waste a word talking about it. Danny goes into the bathroom while Steve changes; Steve uses the bathroom while Danny changes, and when he climbs into bed, Danny is already there. They tell each other good night and turn out the lights, and it’s almost normal. 

Which is arguably very bad. It’s only day two.

*

###### Day 3

On the third evening, Danny doesn’t bother with pajama pants or a shirt. He gets into bed in just his boxers, and again Steve doesn’t say anything about it, because it’s not weird unless he does that.

“Night,” Danny says, and turns off the light. 

Steve gives a good tug on the blanket, because Danny is exceptionally skilled at hogging it. “Night,” he replies, over Danny’s muttered yet furious protests. They trail off into nothingness after a minute, and another minute later they’re replaced by the lightest of snores.

*

###### Day 4

When Steve wakes up with his heart pounding and bathed in sweat, it’s been a long time coming. He’s had nightmares over the past three nights, and he’s woken up a few times, but this was one of a different caliber. As soon as he’s awake, he gets the feeling there’s something else wrong. Something out of place; something not as it should be. He reflexively makes a move for his nightstand, but halfway through, he stops, because he’s figured out what’s bothering him and he’s not going to solve it with his handgun.

The other half of the bed is empty.

He feels the mattress and it’s cold. Taking a lot less care to be quiet than he’s gotten used to doing in the middle of the night, he gets out of bed, makes a grab for the nearest t-shirt and opens the bedroom door. 

He realizes two things simultaneously: one, the shirt doesn’t smell like him and fits awkwardly, and two, there are low sounds coming from downstairs that indicate the tv is playing. The first makes his heartrate spike, the second evens it out. He briefly hovers in the doorway, indecisive about going back and swapping Danny’s shirt for one of his own, but in the end he’s just not motivated enough. If Danny gets to waltz in and declare Steve’s house more or less his property, then Steve should be allowed to accidentally loan a piece of clothing in the middle of the night.

As expected, once Steve gets within sight of the couch, he’s also got eyes on Danny. Danny is sitting at one end with Eddie dozing with his chin on the armrest at the other end, and they’re sharing the fluffy throw blanket that was a Christmas gift from Danny in the first place. Maybe he has prophetic powers and knew he’d get chilly.

Danny allows the blanket that he’s cocooned under to slide down just far enough that his mouth is visible. His eyes are bleary and unhappy, in that way they get when he’s hit by a bout of insomnia and wants to sleep but can’t. “Did I wake you?”

“Nah,” Steve says. “I woke myself.” He navigates around the coffee table and nudges Eddie into a state that’s just alert enough to make him free up some more space.

“The chair’s totally available, you know,” Danny points out, but it’s halfhearted and he not only pulls his legs up so Steve can sit down in the middle, but also pushes the end of the blanket that was previously Eddie’s in Steve’s direction with his foot once Steve has sat down. “Hey, is that my shirt?”

“It was on the floor.” 

“Well, if it was on the floor.” 

Steve genuinely can’t tell if Danny means that sarcastically or not, but he also finds that it doesn’t really matter. He’s sandwiched between his dog and his best friend and they seem to be watching a deep sea documentary instead of a home shopping channel, which constitutes two blessings in a row. The specters of his own past failures, always hovering at the edges of his mind in dark and quiet moments, are much easier to keep at bay than he’s used to.

*

###### Day 5

Steve isn’t sure if Danny gets any additional sleep that night, but Steve nods off for a bit after an hour of ocean footage. He wakes up with his cheek smushed into Danny’s shoulder, Eddie’s tail in his lap and Danny telling him he drools, and that they might as well get the coffee started now, because on the other side of the curtains the sun is coming up. 

When Junior ventures downstairs that morning, there is French toast and freshly pressed orange juice waiting for him. “Oh wow,” he says, and later, grinning over said toast, “Is this a subtle hint I need to step up my game?”

“No,” Danny says. “It’s not subtle.”

Steve laughs into his buttery coffee.

*

Kono calls. On its own that’s certainly pleasant but not very remarkable, because she does it pretty regularly. It only gets suspicious when, just after Steve has put her on speaker and situated his phone on the coffee table so Danny can join the conversation, some of Kono’s first words are, “So a little birdie told me you two are sharing a bed these days. Taking your relationship to the next level, guys?”

Danny shoots Steve a look of commiseration. “Did you happen to be married to this bird, or is it a species native to Chicago?”

Obviously they can’t see her, but Steve has a very vivid image in his mind of the way Kono must be grinning. “I won’t give up my sources.”

“When did you switch careers?” Danny throws back. “You’re a cop, not an investigative journalist.”

“I’m taking this longwinded evasion as a yes. Just so you boys know.”

Steve decides to break into the conversation, because as fun as listening to Kono and Danny is, he has a stake in this, too. “You’re right. Danny’s staying here for a while, and since Junior has dibs on the guestroom, Danny’s decided he gets to take up half of my mattress.” That’s not exactly how the story went, but it’s the least embarrassing version. That’s the one he’s sticking with until anybody calls him out on it.

Danny doesn’t, but probably only because he’s busy handwaving other concerns. “Steve’s bed is huge. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine.”

The newest look Danny gives him is exasperation at him rather than the rest of the world. “He just thinks he has to say that,” Danny says, watching Steve, but talking to Kono. “Don’t mind him. He loves me, deep down.”

“I really don’t know why I do,” Steve lies.

Kono’s laughter is a wonderful sound to hear, even over the phone. “Okay, I was wrong. Seems like nothing at all has changed over there.”

Yeah. That’s what scares Steve a little.

*

###### Day 6

He hasn’t regularly shared a bed with someone in years before Danny, and certainly never this innocently, this safely, this domestic and, well- This much like a real marriage. It’s settled and comfortable and feels like coming home. He gets to relax at the end of the day next to the one person on this earth he probably cares about most, which is a luxury he hasn’t allowed himself to imagine for most of the past ten years. There is a faint worry tickling along the edges of his mind about how long Danny is going to stay, but it’s also a mostly moot point. He can’t do much about it, for one, and for another, if history has proven anything it’s that it’s very hard to get rid of Danny Williams even if you try.

Not that he’s trying. “Let’s cuddle,” he says on day six, when Danny joins him in the bed. It’s muffled by his pillow, but more than clear enough. “Everyone already thinks we’re doing it, anyway.” They each had a couple of beers and Steve got to the bathroom first for once, so he’s half asleep by now. He’s going to blame it all on that, and maybe Kono’s call from the day before for making him think about things he was fairly determined to ignore.

“That’s not what people think we’re doing,” Danny replies fairly, but to add a dash of mystery, he does it while cuddling up to Steve. 

They’re not even touching that much, or in any inappropriate ways. It’s mostly their legs that end up tangled, one of Danny’s thighs having wriggled its hairy way between Steve’s, but it’s enough to make Steve lift his head and open his eyes, a lot more alert than he was five seconds ago. “I was joking.”

Danny looks at him and then closes his eyes, like the matter is not worth staying awake for. He snuggles his pillow, but his head on said pillow is close enough that Steve could trace wrinkles even in the near darkness. “I know,” Danny says, on a sigh. It sounds damned close to contentment. “These are ironic cuddles. Deal with it.”

Steve puts his head back down. It helps with the spinning it’s doing. “Anyone ever tell you you have an odd sense of humor?”

“So deal with that, too.”

Steve does. It’s whatever the opposite of a hardship is.

*

###### Day 7

They’ve settled into alternating who gets to use the bathroom first, so it’s Danny’s day again. He’s already lying down when Steve slips under the covers next to him, but he’s on his back, his bare arms on top of the blanket and hands folded roughly where his stomach should be. It doesn’t look like the ideal starting ground for some more gratuitous cuddling, but Steve tells himself he’s not disappointed.

“You know, don’t you?” Danny asks, after turning his head Steve’s way.

“Know what?” Steve is in the middle of fluffing up his pillow. He only half pays attention, which is an act of hubris that comes back to bite him in the ass immediately, and not in the fun way.

“Why I’m really here.”

Steve leaves his pillow in peace and looks straight at Danny. “There’s mold in your house.”

Danny abandons his attempts at being horizontal and pushes up into a sitting position. His back is against the headboard, the blanket falling down to leave his chest as bare as his face. “I know you. I know you didn’t buy that.” 

Steve keeps forgetting that playing poker usually means they both lose. Danny can’t lie convincingly to him, but it’s no better the other way around. “Okay,” he says, because at a certain point the jig is up and that certain point is now. “Maybe I knew.”

“So why didn’t you say anything?”

“You wanted to be here.” Or at least, that’s what it very much seemed like. Other than that, Steve doesn’t have any respectable answers, so he defaults to defensiveness. “Now you want me to not have wanted you to be here? Make up your mind, Danny.”

Danny smooths out the blanket over his own knees. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

“What are you saying?”

The blanket is as flat as it’s ever going to get, unless Danny wants to get out an iron right now. He doesn’t do that; he just frowns. “I’m talking about what you want, Steve. You knew my own house was fine – hell, you could have done the sensible thing and sent me to a hotel when there wasn’t room for me here, or told me to ask Lou or Adam for their couch, or Tani for the spare room that she has since her brother left. Did you do any of that? No.”

“Because I knew I would’ve had to physically manhandle you out the door.” Steve, realizing he’s still leaning on an elbow, pushes his fluffed pillow up against the headboard and sits up too, mirroring Danny. Danny is presenting the case like he would have left willingly, which is just not a realistic assumption to make. “You know, there’s plenty of camping gear in the attic. You could’ve put a bedroll on the floor anywhere in this house.”

Danny takes that as agreement. “Yeah, that’s what I’m saying. Why am I sleeping in your bed, Steve?” 

Because Steve invited him in, and Danny, through complying, said yes. It’s obvious enough that it doesn’t need to be said out loud, just like seven days ago. 

Danny shakes his head, as if he heard that train of thought and thinks it’s ridiculous. He twirls a hand, encompassing Steve and the room and the bed. “This, this whole thing? It makes no sense for two grown men who have plenty of other options.”

“You’re saying we chose this,” Steve concludes.

“Didn’t we?”

“If we did, are you trying to make a point, or are you just trying to make this awkward? Because I liked this. I think it’s good, but if you don’t-”

“Of course I do!” Danny forcefully pats the blanket with a series of muffled thumps. It comes very close to hitting it. “I’m here, aren’t I? Why would I willingly put myself through this if I hated it? You’re the one known for torturing yourself.”

Steve, spurred on by Danny’s dramatics, brings an indignant hand to his own chest. “I’m- Oh, _I’m_ the one torturing myself? Danny, you made up a totally non-existent mold emergency because you thought you needed some bullshit excuse to stay at my place. What’s that, then?”

“Practicality! I couldn’t give you an easy out.” 

There’s the sound, down the hall, of the door of the other bedroom creaking open. It stops Steve in his tracks before he can get in a rebuttal. Junior went to bed two hours ago, and he’s not usually the type to get up in the middle of the night.

“Sneaking out?” Danny whispers. He, too, has put their argument on hold to listen to what their housemate is doing. His head is suddenly bent closer to Steve’s and Steve realizes he’s doing the same thing. He’s not sure when that happened.

“He wouldn’t have to,” he whispers back. “He’s an adult.”

Without warning, Danny sits up and swings his legs out of bed. 

“Danny!” Steve hisses. “Don’t-” 

Steve tries, but he’s too late. Danny is already at the door and cracking it open. Steve can’t see anything except Danny’s broad and very naked back blocking his view of the hall, but Junior must still be there, maybe just at the top of the stairs, because Danny says, “What’s up, buddy? Can’t sleep?”

There’s a murmur that’s obviously Junior’s voice, but Steve can’t make out most of the words. It sounds apologetic, which is only further evidence of who it’s coming from, because neither Danny nor Eddie make use of that emotion much. Also, Eddie can’t talk – minor detail.

“Okay,” Danny says. “Hey, don’t hesitate to lock Eddie in the kitchen if need be.”

Steve feels a spike of indignation, but there’s quiet laughter from Junior, so Eddie probably won’t end up sad and miserable on the cold tile floor of the kitchen. Letting him have the couch all to himself might be a little indulgent, Steve is willing to admit that, but the floor feels like a harsh punishment for an aging veteran, even if he’s a dog.

Steve forgets most of this when Danny slips into bed next to him again. The door to their room is closed and it’s quiet outside. “He was in pajamas and taking his pillow and blanket downstairs to sleep on the couch,” Danny reports. He’s not as obviously whispering as when Junior was right outside, but he’s much less loud than during their argument before that. “He said he couldn’t sleep. I don’t believe him.”

Steve is holding on to his end of the blanket just to make sure Danny doesn’t smuggle too much of it over to his side while getting comfortable again, but that’s a statement so perplexing he almost lets go. “You think he was lying?”

Danny stops arranging the blanket to his liking. “I think he was trying to avoid telling me to my face we were too loud in here.”

“Oh, God. It wasn’t-”

“He probably knows that.”

“Probably,” Steve echoes.

Danny nods. “Or he thought we were doing it.” He gives a well-timed tug on the blanket when Steve abruptly chokes on air, taking advantage of the situation before adding, drily, “You know, cuddling. Loudly.”

Steve gives up on the blanket for the time being. It’s not like he needs it that much, anyway. He points a finger directly at Danny instead. “You, you are-”

Danny leaves his hard won prize virtually unprotected to curl a hand around Steve’s finger. It’s warm and unexpected and almost like they’re holding hands. “What?”

“You’re the worst,” Steve tells him. “And I can’t believe how much I love you.”

“Idiot,” Danny says, without missing a beat. “I love you too.”

Steve will never fully understand how it happens. One moment, they’re just sitting there, despairing at the level of affection between them, and the next he’s kissing Danny. Just like that, like it’s a thing that happens sometimes. Like it’s something else they can just fall into without having to think about it much – that easy.

Maybe it could be, because Danny kisses him back. It’s warm and unexpected and almost like they’re about to do way more than hold hands.

When they break, it’s for air, and Steve is not sure if he’s breathless because he’s about to have a medical emergency, because he’s aroused, or because their kiss lasted way longer than it felt like it did. Danny has a hand on the back of Steve’s neck and he’s using it to gently scratch through the hair at Steve’s nape and to keep their faces close and he’s smiling and suddenly he’s talking, too. Evidently Steve’s never given him enough credit for his ability to multitask. “So that’s what I am, huh? What’s that, then?”

“How the hell should I know?” Steve’s voice is as rough as his words. He’s been trying not to think about it. He can’t be expected to have answers to questions he couldn’t ask, but- “I’m sure we can figure it out.” Some things make asking worth it, even if it’s going to be difficult.

Danny makes a noise of vague contemplative assent. “I guess that’s good enough.”

As responses go, that’s so silly it drags Steve right out of his serious mood and into bicker-banter mode. There’s a bright bubble of elation swelling in his chest, because Kono was right – nothing has changed. “Oh, I’m good enough? Very smooth, Danny.”

“I don’t need to flatter you,” Danny says, confidently. “I’m already in your bed, you love me more than life itself, and you just kissed me.”

“Hey now, I never said that bit in the middle.”

“You never said you were going to kiss me, either, and it’s still true.” Danny doesn’t _not_ have a point. There’s another thing for the list of them that Steve will have to sit and think about sooner rather than later. 

For now, though, it will still have to be later. There are far more pressing matters to think about, like the taste of Danny’s toothpaste and if it maybe changed over barely a minute of talking. Steve makes it his mission to check thoroughly and repeatedly, and for Junior’s sake, as quietly as possible.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you have a quiet nest to withdraw to somewhere, too, and maybe consider leaving a comment, if you want to and your nest has Wi-Fi. ❤
> 
> I’m on Tumblr as [itwoodbeprefect](https://itwoodbeprefect.tumblr.com), or with my exclusively H50 (and mostly McDanno) sideblog as [five-wow](https://five-wow.tumblr.com).


End file.
